Forget About the Sunshine
by anonabella
Summary: Spain lost his place in the new world, even his title as the Empire on Which the Sun Never Sets. Romano taught him how to forget the sunshine when it's gone.
1. Chapter 1

**Forget About the Sunshine**

Spain lost his place in the new world, even his title as the Empire on Which the Sun Never Sets. Romano taught him how to forget the sunshine when it's gone.

Short multichapter songfic for the song "Sunshine" by The All American Rejects

First time actually writing something that isn't AU

Please bear with me ...

.::.

I

Romano was packing his clothes. He had delayed preparing for his departure for weeks and weeks since he first told Spain that he is leaving. But with his brother fetching him the very next morning, he now has no excuse to postpone this any further.

While skimming through his clothing articles, he found a red ribbon. He remembered it as the one that Spain used to tie his hair when he still sported long hair in his Armada days.

He remembered him taking it off when he finally returned home ragged after losing everything to England. From his precious Armada to the title of the Empire on Which the Sun Never Sets.

.::.

_It's a new day, it's a bright day even when you stand in the dark. It's just that you've been broken in fifty pieces._

_.::._

It has been three months since Spain had happily bid Romano goodbye, promising to kick some English asses for a while. The little Italian just grumbled a half-assed farewell and headbutted Spain in the stomach like he usually do. He gave no hint to the oblivious bastard how he actually didn't want him to go.

Every afternoon after that, Romano would be found sitting on his favorite spot on that tall wall, looking far away. At first it was just short glimpses whenever the Italian was free from chores but right after Belgium has told him the news of their boss's defeat, the little boy lingered on the spot much longer, and his face would always scrunch up in anticipation whenever a shadow of someone was seen approaching the Spaniard's mansion.

On that very spot, Romano had watched many many sunsets. He learned too well how the sun won't always be around. And as the darkness engulfs the surroundings, no matter how he wished to have the sun back, it will not return just by Romano's bidding. No, not even by silently begging or secretly crying for leaving him behind. When Spain left, it was as if he took the sun with him as well.

But when he returned, it was dark. No sun was with him. He might have left it in England.

It was one midnight.

Romano was awakened by the door crashing. At first, he was so afraid that some evil bastard might be attacking the house while Spain wasn't around, but when he heard the gasps and not so soft voices of the servants fussing over the guest, he raced downstairs as well.

There stood Spain. Wounded, bloody, feeble.

Unsmiling.

His vibrant green eyes were vibrant no more. Instead, they were hollow and far away. Romano couldn't even bring himself to look at them... So he just stood and watched from a distance as the maids tried to clean Spain and his wounds.

When they finished, they left the Spaniard to sleep. Romano sneaked in to his bed, hoping to savor his boss's return while the latter was still unconscious. His hand found the red ribbon on his boss's bedside, now useless as his hair has been cut for being too bloody. The Italian decided to keep it.

"Hey bastard..." Romano whispered. "Welcome back."

But it was an unheard greeting. The next day, the Spaniard woke up to a sleeping Romano beside him. Most of his wounds aren't healed yet, but he can move already. He took out a hand to caress the Italian's cheek. So Romano saw his pitiful state... He probably also heard about his defeat. What does he think of Spain now?

The Italian woke up at the Spaniard's touch.

"S-Spain!" he gasped. "I... W-Welco-"

But the elder brunette held his hand to stop Romano from finishing his sentence.

"Please leave me alone."

.::.

What the... Fuck?

Romano kicked the stone blocking his way with all the frustration he had, but it only flew a few meters. Stupid Spain. That bastard! Didn't he... Didn't he know how Romano missed him? How he regret not saying a proper goodbye before? Or is he angry because of that?

Why?

Why?

Why did he ask Romano to leave?

The young Italian stopped trying to fight the tears for a long time already. He couldn't... He couldn't even be worth enough of his boss's attention now...

.::.

From behind the thick curtains adorning his bedroom window, Spain sadly watched as his lackey run to the tomato fields. Being in a state that he is at the moment, he doesn't think he even deserves to be seen by Romano. In his pitiful state, how could Romano even believe that he can protect him?

It was one thing that England has humiliated him and now the world is laughing behind his pathetic back... But for also Romano to despise him... It was very disheartening. Like how the little Italian avoided his gaze last night. Spain couldn't... Spain couldn't stand it. At least not Romano. But it was probably a lost cause now.

.::.

His colonies left Spain one by one.

"I'm really sorry Spain," Belgium said as she walks out the door. Her brother managed to take her away.

Spain has totally lost its place in the new world.

"Heh. Don't think too much about it. It's not like I actually need you," the Spaniard said harshly at the Belgian's retreating back. She flinched, but said no more. As the Netherlands take her, he did spare a cold glare at their former boss.

When the siblings finally disappeared from sight, that's when Spain broke down. He was just acting tough, for the very last time, he doesn't want to look as pathetic as he actually was. But that facade does not change the fact that he has become nothing but a weak and poor country.

Romano saw everything.

"Spain..." he breathed.

The elder brunette went rigid when he realized the Italian's presence. Great. Just great. He tried so hard to look strong but he was still caught at his weakest.

"It's alright, Spain!" the Italian tried his best to assure the man, despite being so afraid himself. He delicately approached the man, careful so that he wouldn't run away and finally sealed him inside his small embrace. Inspite himself, Spain let himself melt inside Romano's warmth. It was funny, how he was now the one being comforted by the very person he promised to protect.

Is this how low he has become?

"Why... Romano, I'm already a weak country. I no longer deserve any of this..." he sobbed. "I'm no longer the empire on which the sun never sets."

"I-Idiot. There was never an empire on which the sun never sets," the Italian murmured, remembering all the sunsets he had watched while Spain was gone. "But still, no matter how many times the sun has gone down, it will always shine it's brightest in the morning. The next day will always promise a brighter tomorrow." So please, Spain... Come back. Come back and be the sun that you've always been to us... To me.

"Even when you are in the dark... The day will always be bright."

At that moment, nothing else matter for Spain. He just wanted to stay that close forever.

As the room grow steadily darker, his house becoming emptier, all Spain and Romano could do was be with each other and fulfill the holes left by the others behind.

.::.

_The day is gone and I'm the only light that you see. You need someone. I know all you needed was me._

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks for the faves, alerts and reviews :3**

_Another pale moon shines like high noon. Midnight never felt so cold alone. It's just that you're uneasy when you need me._

.::.

Romano snapped out of his reverie. It was a wonder how inspite of the years that has passed, that image of his broken boss is still vivid in his mind. That side of the Spanish empire that only Romano knows about, not even Belgium or the Netherlands had seen before… It gives the Souther Italian the pride and at the same time, the certainty that he is indeed someone or something special for the Spaniard…

Perhaps the same way as he felt for him.

"Romano."

The Italian looked up from his rucksack, putting the red ribbon out of Spain's sight. The Iberian nation looked confusedly at him for a bit.

"What?" Romano asked severely, eyeing Spain as if he just disturbed the Italian in the most important task such as packing his clothes. The Iberian's expression drastically changed from perplexed to dazed in an instant.

"I… I know this is too much to ask but," he breathed deeply. "Can we sleep together one last time?" he asked delicately.

How ironic.

Ever since the other colonies left, Spain and Romano always found reasons to sleep together at nights until it was no longer questioned. The little Italian will just bring his tomato pillow, quietly sneak to Spain's bedroom and would suit himslef at the space that the elder brunette has provided for him on his bed. Both knew too well that the warmth they shared made sleep all better and nightmares less frequent. Oftentimes, the Iberian would tell bedtime stories to his lackey or sing him a lullaby. The Italian always says otherwise but he really loved those tales and melodies, he might have memorized some as well. Though he might have had forgotten them as of now.

When the smaller nation suddenly had that growth spurt, little by little, the habit was forgotten. They don't know which happened first: Romano deciding to act more grown up or that Spain himslef finding the situation awkward. All Romano knows is that there were many nights when he cursed himslef by being so proud to return to Spain's warmth but he also remembers how the Iberian utterly refused to sleep together any longer.

"You're a big boy now," Spain said, his eyes looking at Romano tenderly. The lad was now only a head shorter than the elder nation. "We're not supposed to share the bed anymore."

And that was that. The once warm nights reduced into cold beds and in Romano's case, insomnia. It was so stupid. _He used to be this alone before, why does it seems so hard to return to this way now?_ But eventually, his mind will get tired of the senseless thinkings, his eyes will droop in fatigue and his body will succumb to a restless sleep. It was late, yes, sometimes he would still be awake until way past midnights but slowly, he felt himself coping into sleeping alone again.

So why is Spain standing silly in his doorway, clutching a tomato pillow similar to Romano's, begging for a place on the Italian's bed for the night?

Did he not know how many years it took for the younger nation to finally be able to get rid of the loneliness of being alone on his bed? Those tossings and turnings without the Spaniard to keep him warm and fight off his nightmares?

And if ever, Romano would gain the habit back, how many years of sleepless nights will it take him to get rid of it again? Especially when tomorrow, he for sure will be leaving the Spaniard behind?

The Italian glared at the tan nation, but his scowl met with Spain's trademark puppy dog eyes.

"Come in," was all Romano managed to say. He sighed over his barely finished packing. He'll just have to wake early tomorrow and shove everything in. He then settled himself on his side of the bed while Spain lie on the other side.

"Buonanotte."

"B-Buenos noches."

It wasn't like the way they sleep before at all. No snuggling, no contact, nothing. It's hardly any different from having the bed alone for himself. No bedtime tales and lullabies… Not even goodbyes.

What was Spain's _real motive_ anyway?

What was Romano _expecting_ anyway?

Ten o'clock is way too early for Romano to achieve sleep. No matter how hard he tries, dreamland just won't accept him already, dammit. And it didn't help that there is a Spanaird beside him, the very person he'll be abandoning in a few hours time. Now that he thinks about it, how is he supposed to act the next morning? Wake up before Spain and just leave without a word? It sounds so rude. That man raised him for centuries after all. But then, isn't saying farewells even more painful for both of them? Now option number one sounds better. But Spain just had to sleep on the other side of his bed, making it nearly impossible to sneak out with him noticing.

"Uhm… you awake Romano?"

The Italian's train of thought instantly left him.

"Erm… I can't sleep…" Spain continued. Well at least Romano wasn't alone in his misery tonight. "Actually, I haven't been able to sleep this early for a long time now."

The Italian shifted to face the Spaniard but all he saw was the elder man's backside.

"It was funny… really. Before you came, before the others left, I always had the bed for myself. But when we suddenly stopped sleeping together, I can't seem to go back the way I was before."

His voice was plain and he seems to be talking more to himslef than to Romano, the Italian noticed.

"It's just… I'm an idiot. We are nations, eventually, we'll have to part. But I… I let myslef rely on you more than I should have. When you… When you started growing into a man, I know, time is quickly running out for us. I distanced myself from you, so that when the time of parting comes, it won't hurt as much. So many nights, decades that I told myslef that it's for the best…

"I'm such an idiot."

Spain's voice trembled, his words got choken, his breathing became shallow.

"It doesn't stop the pain… And then… there's the added regret of not being able to h-hold you while I – while I still c-can."

Suddenly, Spain felt an arm wrap around his belly. Romano's breath seemed so close, gently touching the Iberian's nape. He finally broke into sobs.

"There's still some time," it surprised the Italian how his voice sounded even when all this emotions inside him seems to be welling uncotrollably.

The Spaniard turned around and embrace Romano as well.

"Te quiero… te quiero… mi Romanito," the Iberian wept.

So it wasn't just Romano who had trouble sleeping. It wasn't just Romano who missed the warmth they had always shared. It wasn't just Romano wished to be back the way they were before.

After realizing how the two of them just so blindly let the decades pass _getting hurt_ by trying _not to get hurt_ Romano found it really funny. Of course, he was still sad, but upon knowing that after all this time, he wasn't alone in the suffering, he felt that the whole situation was laughable. Because he realized that perhaps, it wasn't just him who felt something special for the Spnaiard. So he was happy.

_The day is gone, and I'm the only light that you see. You need someone, I know all you needed was me._

Spain was Romano's sun. Romano was Spain's sunshine.

It was Spain that took him, raised him, cared for him despite being a useless colony. It was Romano who stood by Spain's side when everyone else left.

But then he realized how everything will still end the next morning. Tomorrow, he will leave Spain behind, despite knowing how it would hurt the Spaniard the most. He might not have known before, he might have guessed it right… but right now that he was fully aware, he now knows it too well how important he really is to the Spaniard. But still he would leave him.

Romano wrapped his arms tighter around Spain.

Romano won't be the one who was left anymore. He will become another someone who has left Spain. No, he wouldn't be any better than Belgium or the Netherlands.

We are nations, eventually, we'll have to part.

He should have known how those warm nights meant all the love that Spain has and could give him.

If he had known, will this parting still be inevitable?

Will this pain in his heart be avoided?

They are nations, eventually, they'll have to part.

Spain had known. And he was hurt.

Why does everything hurt?


	3. Chapter 3

Everyday we wake

If it takes too long

I'll tell you something new

Forget about the sunshine when it's gone

.::.

Romano woke up later than he would have planned. By the way that the sunlight washes the room, he assumes that it was already 10 o'clock. Oh shit, has Veneziano come already to fetch him? And Spain... Can he still sneak out without the Spaniard knowing?

He threw the covers away and almost stumbled as he stood up too quickly. He managed to grab onto the green curtains that he swears were white just the night before.

Odd.

He glanced back to his bed, expecting Spain to be still be drooling over his tomato pillow. Instead, white linens met his eyes and no sign of tan brunettes anywhere. The bed also looked way too smaller than where he slept last night.

Odd.

He scanned the room. It looks queerly familiar, as if it was from a dream that he has long forgotten. His feet brought him to the door on the right. It shocked him how the place behind the door was exactly what he has expected: a bathroom. And a tad nice one at that, well at least, the way how everything in there seems to suit his meticulous Italian taste. From the style of the mirror to the pristine whiteness of the bathtub...

It seems as if it was designed especially for him.

He stared at his reflection. A 23 year old man stared back at him. Is that him?

When had he grown so old?

"Fratello~"

Suddenly, Veneziano's ever obnoxious voice rang in Romano's ears. Seconds later, he heard the bathroom door open and a huge Italian something threw himself in the confused other Italian's arms.

"Ve... Ve... Ve..." the younger ranted uselessly.

Even his brother is no longer some gender-neutral pubescent that he was when they first unified. He looks like 20 or something. And he probably smells like potatoes now.

Unified.

Oh yeah. They were unified already. More than a century ago. This was their house. Not the Spanish empire where he had grown up in.

Romano smacked his annoying brother.

"Shut your trap you idiota brother."

"Ve! But I'll miss you fratello~"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"But aren't you going to big brother Spain's house today? If only Germany would let me skip training, I would love to come with you. I really miss eating the churros he makes."

Romano had already stopped listening at the mere mention of Spain. He remembered. He received a letter from the Spaniard the day before, casually asking about his whereabouts. They had been this way for a long time, exchanging letters and visiting each other every once in a while. It was one of the many things that Romano can't help but have mixed feelings about. Up until now, it still feels a bit awkward for him. Though he supposed that if Spain stops being a thick-head, the Spaniard would also share the discomfort.

The first time he ever got to visit Spain was during his former boss's civil war.

It has been decades since that time. Before, Veneziano noticed his brother's alone times in their home after the unification. He then delicately asked his brother when will he ever visit big brother Spain again (the younger Italian brother had always been seeing his former boss Austria, being allies in the WWII). Of course, Romano was taken aback. He was silently hoping that perhaps, things will be as solemn as what they are in that time: a simple kind of solitude. But since Veneziano had mentioned the unspoken, the issue he had been trying to avoid for years, he was faced with the fact that he was being a coward.

So coward, that he chose to suffer alone rather than give in to the feelings he wishes to (but couldn't) crush down. Just like how the two of them decided to sleep together the very last minute that time. Pain was just so inevitable all along.

And he never seemed to have learned.

So he went to visit Spain that time, especially after hearing from his brother how Spain seems to be getting insane already for having to make 500 paper roses every day.

"Say, Veneziano," Romano began. "H-How did you greet Austria after the unification?"

"Ve?" Feliciano paused for a moment. Seeing his brother's thoughtful expression and feeling warmth on his cheeks, Romano quickly tried to brush it off.

"Never mind..."

"He was angry."

Romano glanced at his brother.

"He was really scary, just like when he first took me in the Holy Roman Empire's house," Veneziano said, reminscing, his voice getting smaller as he went on. "I can't blame him though, it was as if I'm his child and I runaway from home, leaving him on his own. After Miss Hungary also left... I'm kind of happy that at least, he's living with Germany now."

Both brothers were uncharacteristically quiet after that, both absorbed in their own thoughts about their pasts.

What about Spain? He has been alone for a very long time. Romano's visits weren't that seldom, but they were short. Sometimes just overnight or one day at most... On times of Romano's every departure... How does Spain feel behind his fixed smiles?

Is he as sad as Romano?

Is he also silently wishing to grab the Italian back, never again to let go?

Or has it just been Romano who was still to move on?

He can't move on until his questions are answered...

Romano can vividly remember the first time he met Spain again. He was nervous, and was silently contemplating if he will push the door open or run off to Italy as fast as he could. He managed to force himself to stay at Spain and was flabbergasted instantly when he saw his former boss's dreadful state. All insecurities and doubt forgotten in the midst of being concerned for the Spaniard, he approached his bed.

Even on his almost dying state, Spain still managed to force a smile for Romano - the very Romano whom he raised (with so much difficulty and love), the very Romano who promised to stay but still went away, and the very Romano who left him without even a proper goodbye.

.::.

You can say it's right

But it feels so wrong

I'll tell you something new

Forget about the sunshine when it's gone

.::.

"Awww... So you're leaving again tomorrow morning?"

"S-Si..."

The Spaniard pouted. But somehow he noticed something.

"Is there a problem, Romano? You seem so quiet."

He reached Spain's house that night, and they ate dinner together. The elder nation was happily talking about his tomatoes and the turtle he nicked from when a group of the baby reptiles invaded South Italy, but Romano's thoughts were obviously elsewhere.

Spain's concerned voice and expression. Directed to Romano. It has always been this way.

"Nothing... D-Don't mind me."

"Eeehh~ you're really starting to worry me," and the Spaniard raised from his seat to check on the Italian. However, even before he could touch Romano, the younger had slapped his hand off.

"I said NO!"

Spain's hand hit a glass of wine and the contents poured on Romano while the glass shards scattered on the floor.

They were both shocked at what happened.

"I-I'm s-sorry," Romano said shakily, refusing to look at Spain. He dropped on his knees and went to pick the pieces of the shattered glass.

"You'll hurt yourself-!"

And so he did. Romano's finger got cut and Spain panicked as the Italian broke down into tears. Dammit... Why does everything - everything! The guilt, the longing, these feeling bottled up inside - all came rushing down to him?

I'm no longer your henchman. Why do you have to still worry about me?

Weren't you angry that I left?

Weren't you lonely?

Why do you keep on smiling at me?

What do I really mean to you?

Tell me...

Please...

Tell me... You feel the same way.

"Romano... Please calm down," Spain pleaded, trapping the Italian in his embrace, drawing circles on his back.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry..."

Who was saying sorry?

Why is he saying sorry?

In the end... Does it change anything?

.::.

(Spain's flashback)

He was leaving again. Dawn is yet to break and he tried his best to creep out noiselessly.

"Where are you going?" Romano mumbled from behind him.

He sighed in defeat and turned around, scratching his head embarrassedly.

"To another war..."

"Again?"

Romano's voice was accusing and exasperated. Now that he thinks about it, maybe his frequent escapades were also the reason why Romano left him. But back then, he was too much of a thickhead.

"S-Si..." he glanced at the windows. The sun is already rising from the horizons. "I gotta go."

"...mmfine."

The boy turned his back at the man and went back to sleep. Or so Spain had thought. As he met with Prussia and France, his lackey was silently crying at home alone. As he was counting the days since his departure, his boy was praying for the day he will come back.

(the morning of Romano's departure)

In the end, Spain had only slept so lightly. Despite the warmth they had shared, the impending fact that Romano was leaving that very morning still haunted him. How should he react? How would Romano go? How would he say goodbye?

Will he sneak out like Spain did before? What if Spain caught him? How would the two of them act?

Moments later, he heard Romano making a racket. He decided to lay motionless. He felt cold as he heard thrown comforters and cursings and dragged suitcases. He even let himself smile a bit as Romano seems to be ready to go, not-so-quietly thanking the Gods that Spain was still asleep when he woke up. So Romano was actually planning to sneak out. He wasn't doing a good job at it.

But as he heard the clicking of the doorlock, his heart pounded on his chest. This is it... The very last moment. After this, Romano will no longer be his charge... No longer Spain's housemate. He's leaving. Say something Spain! Tell him those words you failed to say! Make him linger for a bit longer! Make him know you'll miss him!

He tried to part his lips...

But what's the point? It's not like it will change the fact that he is still leaving.

"Arrividerci," Romano whispered quietly, shutting the door behind him.

Spain quickly rose and stared at the closed door.

He felt his cheeks dampen and his chest hurt. He couldn't even say anything! How useless could he get?

Back then... When he was the one sneaking out... Romano... How much courage did it take him to be able to say something to Spain, knowing that it wouldn't change anything? Knowing that he couldn't stop him?

.::.

"I'm sorry, Romano.

"I couldn't show you how sad I was when you left. I realized that I shouldn't. You taught me that...

"You weren't the only one who left. The truth is, it has always been me who would go away before. You should understand that I understand you the most and that you know this feeling the most. So I was happy that you are very concerned of me...

"At first, I did got angry and hurt... But remembering how it has always been me who left, and you who was left behind, I realized that I can't be selfish. You were much much stronger than me, much much braver. You were a child and I was a grown man... I was the boss and you were the henchman. I couldn't lose to you.

"You said that the sun always comes down, it always goes away. So... Just like the sunshine, I had to forget about you while you're gone."

They were leaning on the opposite side of the door of Romano's bedroom. The Italian took refuge in his part of the house while trying to sort out his crashing emotions.

"But that doesn't mean that I don't remember. I just do things that I could do for you until your return."

Gazing at the stars, dreaming through the night, dancing in the rain and under the moonlight... These things that we can do while the sun isn't around, are the things that can make us go through the day, each day of waiting for the sun to come back. So that when it does return, you can greet it happily, and tell him the stories of meteors, of raindrops and of the moonshine.

"I try not to think about you... I try not to miss you. I try to make the best of my time making tales and keeping my door open for the time I'll see you again. And every time you come back to me, I am the happiest man in the world."

Spain fell back first as Romano opened the door he was leaning into. The Italian looked down on him.

"Let's sleep together tonight."

The man who was picking the fruits of the tomatoes that the little boy planted, centuries ago... And both of them sharing a meal with the harvested fruit - it was their story. The very same story of leaving and faithfully waiting for the next time they will meet again. Not because they promised... But because they know they will find each other as soon as they parted.

.::.

The Spaniard woke up to Romano's least quiet way of preparing for departure. Despite the things he told Romano the night before, it doesn't mean that he doesn't actually feel sad whenever the Italian leaves him. He decided to feign sleep but failed to do so when Romano tripped on something.

"A-Are you alright?" he asked sleepily.

Romano glanced embarrassedly at him. "Y-Yeah."

The young man went back to his feet and walked to the door muttering a small arrividerci. As the door shuts close, the Spaniard felt an empty kind of solitude once more.

But then the door opened.

"Bastard."

"D-Did you left something?"

Romano was blushing and refusing to look at Spain.

"Iwantspaghettifordinnertonig ht," he mumbled before closing the door again.

Spain stared blankly at the door for a moment. But then he stood up and raced to the corridor.

"Romano! What do you mean you want spaghetti tonight? Haha... Will you come back here after work?" he yelled, his mouth forming a smile he couldn't remove. His voice sounds like laughing. "Hahaha... Hahaha..."

.::.

Stupid bastard. He could at least try to hide his happiness a bit.

.::.

What is this I don't even?

The ending felt so rushed and kind of too fluffy for my liking.

This took ages to finish and all I came up with was this. I'm so sorry.

About fusosososo. I didn't make Spain laugh that way because... I thought it was a cheer-up charm, not his actual laugh, and I'm watching Hetalia in English and I think (correct me if I'm wrong) he didn't laugh that way there so sorry if it sounds so wrong to you.

And I'll stop promising about updates because everytime I do, there is a chance that the files I write get erased or corrupted.

Okay bye.


End file.
